Give Life's Little Guys Some Ink
by Thepopcornpup
Summary: A collection of one-shots written from prompts I've received on Tumblr!
1. (Ain't) Made To Ice Skate

**Prompt: For a prompt, JackCrutchie ice skating? (Take that however you want)**

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Winter was not Crutchie's favorite time of year. Not only did the endless feet of snow make hawking headlines even harder than usual, but he always had to sit on the sidelines while his friends had snowball fights, went sledding, and went ice skating. In short, winter wasn't exactly polio-friendly.

"Hey, Crutchie!" Jack called, skating over to the edge of the frozen-over pond. "Take a break from sellin' for a while, huh? I can help you sell the rest later."

Crutchie rolled his eyes, grinning. "I appreciate it, Jack, but, I don't got skates, and well," He motioned towards his bad leg. "I ain't really made for ice-skating."

Jack crossed his arms and pursed his lips in thought, a position that made Crutchie's stomach swirl like the snowflakes in the air. He blinked and shook it off before blurting to Jack, "You got some kinda plan, Cowboy?"

Jack bit his lip and grinned.

 _'Good grief,'_ Crutchie thought. _'I'm a goner.'_

Jack motioned for Crutchie to come closer. He obeyed, limping over to the edge of the pond. "What crazy thing ya got cooked up now, huh?"

Jack skated up even closer to Crutchie and held out his hands.

Crutchie glanced down at Jack's out-stretched palms. "Hm?"

"Put your crutch down," Jack grinned. "I'm gonna help you skate."

Crutchie scoffed. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."

"Believe me, it ain't," Jack laughed and wiggled his fingers. "Now, come on."

Crutchie furrowed his eyebrows and smirked. Carefully setting his crutch in the snow and placing his hands in Jack's, he responded, "Alright, I'm gonna trust you."

Jack beamed and, holding Crutchie's hands tighter (which made his heart leap), pulled him forward onto the ice. Crutchie gasped. "Jack, what-"

"Shh, I got you," Jack replied. "You ever skated before?"

"I've had a gimp leg since I was five, Jack." Crutchie answered flatly.

"Well, there's a first time for everything now, huh?" Jack smiled and began slowly skating backwards.

Crutchie began gliding forward as Jack went backwards. He chuckled, looking down at his feet then back at Jack. "I'm skating!"

"Sure are!" Jack exclaimed. "Look at us. Look at you!"

Crutchie laughed. "This feels so weird. It ain't like I'm walkin', it's-it's smoother. Almost like I'm fly-"  
What happened next was almost too sudden. Jack's face went from a wide grin to a look of panic, he wobbled, then grabbed Crutchie's arms, and in an instant, they were both lying in the snow.

"Oh my god!" Jack's face was merely inches away from Crutchie's, eyes wide in concern. "Crutchie, oh god, are you okay? I was just tryin' to give you some fun, I-I didn't mean for you to-"

Crutchie began giggling, his red nose crinkling up as he did so. "Jack, I'm fine. That was fun. Are you alright?"

Jack's face slowly shifted into a smile, watching Crutchies gleeful, freckled face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm dandy, Crutch. Guess, uh, guess that didn't go to plan, now did it?"

Crutchie shook his head. "I had fun anyway."

Jack let out a breath and a nervous laugh. "Good, good. Here, lemme help you." He pushed himself up and ran to other side of the lake to get Crutchie's crutch. Then, he ran back and helped the younger boy to his feet, handing him the crutch.

Crutchie adjusted the crutch under his arm and said, "I should probably get back to sellin', but thanks for that, Jack." With that, he limped away, still grinning.

"What's got you all red in the face, Kelly?" Race appeared behind Jack, making him jump.

"Ah, um, just the cold." Jack stammered.

"Liar," Race rolled his eyes and elbowed his friend. "C'mon, what is it? You see a pretty girl or somethin'?"

Jack looked over in the direction that Crutchie left and smirked. "Not quite."

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 **So, thus starts my collection of Tumblr one-shots! I thought I might just dump all the Tumblr prompt things in one place, since I've got quite a few sitting in my inbox? If you want to request something, my ask box is always open /crunchie-morris, hint hint. Just be willing to wait, I've got quite a few! I've got a Javid prompt, a Jackrine prompt, and a JackCrutchie prompt just waiting to be written, so I'm pretty open when it comes to ships! And they don't even have to be romantic! So, yeah, send prompts, if you wanna! Enjoy!**


	2. My Eyes Are Up Here

**Prompt: SOULMATE AU JACKCRUTCHIE WHERE ITS YOUR SOULMATES FIRST WORDS TO YOU TATTOOED ON YOUR ARM PLS PLS PLS (if you're up for writing it)**

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Jack watched the streetlights rush by, making a multi-colored blur in the darkness. He could smell smoke and dust in the cab, and the muffled sounds of people passing by outside and and Katherine telling him what to expect filled his ears. But, he couldn't quite focus on what she was saying. Though, he nodded at all the right places, said "oh" occasionally.

"You're not hearing a word I say, are you?"

Jack turned to see Katherine raising an eyebrow at him skeptically. "Hm?"

Katherine chuckled. "Where is your head now, Jack Kelly? Santa Fe?"

Jack shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. "Sorry. I dunno, Kath, I just… I got a weird feeling about tonight."

Katherine raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Jack shrugged again, smirking. "I-I don't know. I just got butterflies in my stomach and I just…I feel like something big is gonna happen or somethin'."

Katherine felt a grin pull at the corner of her mouth. "How's your wrist feel?"

Jack's eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, it burns a little bit.'

Jack could see Katherine's eyes catch the moonlight and gleam. " You know, Jack, I've heard that people feel that way before meeting their soulmate." She sang the last word and nudged him.

Jack scoffed. "No way. At a poetry slam?"

Katherine nodded. "And, what's so bad about meeting your soulmate at a poetry slam, Mister Kelly?" She added defensively.

"Nothing, it's just so cliché." Jack laughed. "I mean, it's at a coffeehouse, for God's sake. What is this, a John Green novel?"

"Mhm." Katherine rolled her eyes. "I know you just think slam poetry is weird, but I think you're really gonna like this show."

"Not all slam poetry is weird," Jack replied. "Not yours, anyway."

"Well, I've been to this show before," Katherine said. "It's all really good."

The cab rolled up in front of the coffeehouse as Jack examined his wrist, staring at the words he'd read over and over. "Hi, um, my eyes are up here." He shook his head. He'd always thought he'd been fairly good at not blatantly checking people out. Of course, he'd practiced the art of subtlety after reading the statement countless times.

Katherine pulled him inside and sat down at a table near the stage. The smell of coffee and spices filled the air. Jack looked up at the fairy lights strung around the café as he shifted in his chair, uncharacteristically nervous.

"Romantic mood?"

Jack squinted at Katherine. "Oh, shut up."

Katherine giggled. "And here I thought you were the romantic one."

Jack's face went even redder then it was in the cab. "I dunno. The idea of meeting my soulmate is cool, but now you're telling me it could actually happen. That don't happen every day!"

"It could happen any time," Katherine rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a drama queen."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Jack chuckled. "It's my job."

Katherine shook her head as they announced the show was starting.

Jack watched a boy make his way on-stage, seeming to hop off the steps with his crutch. He got up to the mic stand and adjusted it, his blonde hair flopping onto his freckled face as he did so.

"Ooh, this guy's good," Katherine whispered, but Jack didn't spare her a sideways glance, watching the boy with the crutch.

Adjusting the mic once more, the boy started. "Hi, um, my eyes are up here."

Jack's stomach did a cartwheel. Katherine's head whipped around to face him, gasping. She whispered, "Is that-"

Jack nodded, his mouth hanging open. Katherine opened her mouth to say something else, but he shushed her, listening closely to the boy's poem.

"I know, it's a real eye-catcher, huh?" The boy lifting chuckled as he continued, his crutch off the ground and waving it around. "I know it's all the kids in school would ever see. Swerve left, avoid that kid. He can't join our club, because he can't climb up the stairs to our treehouse. My ma always said to ignore those kids. Their eyes weren't wide enough to see the rest of me. They were missing out, she would say. And the kids who didn't miss out? They got to see that it wasn't just a crutch; it was a sword, and I? I was the knight who kept it with me at all times, brave and strong. My sword was one of a kind, and I prided myself with the honor of handling it.

"But, then, we got to high school. In high school, there are no knights. There are no swords. There are no exclusive treehouse clubs. Though, that's a lie, ain't it? There are plenty of exclusive treehouse clubs, just without the treehouse. But, there are still no knights, no swords. No pride. No Ma.

"The knight was now a common-man with a peg-leg. An orphan at that. Tossed into the system like yesterday's paper. The knight was old news. He was sent to all sorts of kingdoms, but each turned him away eventually. No one wanted a common-man, much less one with a peg-leg.

" 40 days. That's how much time I have left in this kingdom. The king didn't expect a kid with a peg-leg, didn't want one. I watch the clock, listen to each tick, the days coming faster and faster until I'm uprooted again, thrown away to the system again. Until the common-man is back on the trail to another kingdom, on a quest for belonging.

"But, I can still hear my ma telling me, brushing my hair behind my ear and whispering that the king's eyes aren't wide enough. If he opened them, he'd see that I'm no common-man. I'm a knight, and this is my sword."

The boy looked down at his feet, then smiled sheepishly at the audience. "Thank you." Then, he shuffled off-stage, Jack's eyes trailing him the entire time.

Jack only heard bits and pieces of the rest of the poems as he whipped out his sketchbook, drawing this boy before his face could leave his mind. Of course, how could it?

Afterward, Katherine grinned. "I take it you enjoyed the show?"

Jack looked up at her, eyes wide as he mumbled, "Kath, slam poetry is really attractive."

"Well, why are you still sitting here?" Katherine laughed. "Go talk to him!"

Jack shook his head. "What? No, not tonight, I-"

"Crutchie!"

Jack felt his heart drop to his stomach as Katherine called over none other than the boy with the crutch. "What are you doing?" He hissed.

Katherine ignored him, grinning at Crutchie. "You did amazing tonight!"

Crutchie chuckled, waving her off. "Golly, thanks! When's your next show, Katherine? I've got to see it."

"I don't know yet, but, uh, my friend has something to say to you." Katherine beamed, motioning to Jack.

Crutchie turned to Jack, and Katherine could have sworn she heard him let out a little gasp.

Clearing his throat, Crutchie smiled. "Uh, hey there." He stuck out his hand, grinning bigger.

Jack took it, trying to form words. "I'm Francis-no, no, I'm not-why'd I say that?"

This time, Crutchie definitely gasped. "N-no."

Jack smirked shakily. "Uh, I'm Jack. That's my name."

Crutchie felt a grin spread across his shocked face. "Crutchie."

Katherine smiled and stood up. "Well, I'll leave you two be."


	3. Rooftop Company

**Prompt: "Okay...everyone thinks Jack found Crutchie on the streets and such, but what if he goes up to the rooftop and bam there's a poor cr*ppled boy curled into himself terrified of everything and he's trying to hide from cops and such?"**

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In the few weeks that Jack Kelly had been at the Lodging House, he quickly discovered that the roof of the building was his favorite place to go, especially after a long day. He could never explain it, but the higher off the ground he was, the safer he felt. So, on the roof, he was at peace. That's why, even though it was sprinkling little droplets of rain from the cloudy Manhattan skies, and he held a pape he'd have to eat above his head to shield him, he still made his way to what he now dubbed his penthouse.

No one dared to go on Jack's penthouse. Even though he'd only made friends in his first weeks as a newsie, extrovert that he is, he still valued his alone time, and the other boys could see that. The penthouse was something that was his and only his, and Jack didn't have many things like that anymore.

That's why he jumped at the sound of clanging on the fire escape. "Who the hell…" He muttered, setting down his charcoal and parchment. Reluctantly, he headed to the fire escape, where he saw a boy clinging to the bottom few steps.

Jack squinted, making out blonde hair and freckles, but not much else. Was it Race? _Nah,_ he thought. _This kid is too scrawny._ Maybe if he had money, he could get the glasses he probably needed.

But, there wasn't time to focus on that now, as Jack made out what looked to be blood on the kid's ratty shirt. "Hey!" Jack barked, frowning. "Who are ya?"

The boy didn't reply as he scrambled up the next few steps, clearly struggling but not wanting to show it.

Jack began to make his way down the fire escape. "You need some help?"

"No!" The boy shouted. He glanced over his shoulder, then rolled his eyes. "Maybe. Yes."

Jack made his way down as quick as he could, extending a hand for the boy. "C'mon, kid."

The boy glanced over his shoulder once more before taking Jack's hand tightly. With his other hand, he held a crutch hopped up each step. Eventually, they both made it to the top.

The boy shoved his crutch under his arm and scrambled to peek over the edge of the building as soon as they were up. Then, he turned back to Jack and sighed, sitting down.

"The bulls chasing you?" Jack questioned, raising his eyebrows. He knew the look of desperation in that boy's eyes.

The boy nodded. "But the joke's on them." He grinned, despite himself, and pulled an apple out of his pocket.

Jack smirked, sitting down beside the boy. "I've been there."

The boy glanced at the apple, biting his lip. "I don't steal often, y'know," He said. "But, I was just...my stomach ain't never hurt this bad."

"Then, what are you waiting for?" Jack asked. "Eat it, I don't mind."

The boy didn't hesitate to devour it. Before it was almost all gone, he offered the little bit left to Jack.

Jack shook his head. "I had dinner. You look like you ain't eaten in forever."

"I haven't." The boy admitted before eating the rest.

Jack's eyes trailed down to the boy's right leg. It was horribly twisted - no wonder he had the crutch. Jack's gaze wandered back up to the boy's face, which was bloodied and bruised. "Was someone messin' with you, kid?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. But, you shoulda seen the other guys."

Jack chuckled. "You oughta look out for yourself. New York ain't kind to kids like us."

"I can look out for myself just fine." The boy mumbled.

Jack frowned. "You got some place to stay?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. I'll find one, though, soon as the bulls are gone for sure."

"You could stay here, if ya want." Jack offered.

The boy waved him off. "This is the newsboy's lodging house, ain't it? I ain't no newsie."

"God, you say it like it's a bad thing," Jack smirked. "I'll have ya know I happen to be a newsie myself, and a damn good one at that."

"Oh no, I didn't mean like it's bad," He replied quickly. "I just, I don't think I'd be any good." He glanced at his leg. "Gettin' a job is impossible with this. I shoe-shine sometimes, though."

"Hey, who says you can't be a newsie?" Jack frowned. "We don't turn away no one. Besides, you know how many guys fake a limp for sympathy?"

"Oh, I know," The boy looked slightly annoyed. "Makes people think I'm fakin' mine."

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry. But, you can always join us here."

A glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah!" Jack grinned. "I'll train ya. I gotta say, I think I'm pretty good."

"Oh no, I don't wanna bug ya," He shook his head. "You don't gotta do that, I can keep shoe-shinin'."

"No, I wanna!" Jack insisted. "C'mon, join us here. For at least a week? You'll get on real good with the other fellas."

The boy sighed, visibly giving in. "But don't it cost money to stay here at the Lodge? I ain't got a nickle."

"I'll spot ya."

"I ain't no charity case."

"Take the good deed, kid."

The boy sighed again. "Thanks."

Jack nodded, feeling successful. "No problem. I'm Jack." He spit on his hand and held it out to the boy.

The boy giggled. "I never done that before."

"Hey, if we're gonna be sellin' together, you'se gonna have to." Jack said seriously. "This is business, kid."

The boy laughed louder this time, and Jack felt like the night sky had just lit up. "Alright. You can call me Crutchie." He mimicked the way Jack spat on his hand and shook it.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Crutchie? That's not...rude or anything?"

"Nah, I like it," Crutchie grinned. "It's better than my given name."

"Alright, Crutchie," Jack smiled. "Sounds good."

The two boys sat in silence for a few moments, taking in each other's company. They clicked, quickly feeling as if they'd known each other for years. The breeze blew gently, tossing the drawing Jack had been working on into Crutchie's lap. Crutchie picked it up and grinned. "Woah, Jack. This is amazin'. Is this a real place?"

"Oh gosh, amazin' is an overstatement," Jack chuckled, cheeks turning scarlet. "It is, yeah. Santa Fe, Mexico."

"Huh," Crutchie smiled, taking in the charcoal drawing. "Is this where you're from?"

"God, I wish," Jack laughed. "Nah, I only been there in my dreams."

Crutchie looked at Jack, grinning brightly. "Tell me about it."

Jack blinked. "You wanna hear about it?"

Crutchie nodded, enthusiastic. "Please?"

A smile pulled at the corners of Jack's lips. "Yeah, of course. So, take everything you know about New York, an' imagine the opposite. That's Santa Fe."

Crutchie gasped quietly. "Sounds perfect."

Jack chuckled. "I know, right? Ain't got no crowds, you got space…"

The boys talked about Santa Fe as if it were routine - which it would soon become - until Crutchie drifted off to sleep, nodding off mid-sentence. Jack grinned at the boy. He didn't usually like company on his roof, but he had a feeling that was about to change.


End file.
